


Perfection

by licotain



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, Character Study, Corsetry, M/M, Makeup, Massage, Morning After, Service Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25391437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/licotain/pseuds/licotain
Summary: Usually, Vil can only trust himself with his appearance.He has tried from time to time to allow assistants or make up artists to put his face together for him, to pick out his clothes and do his hair, to allow him to be at least a little more relaxed. They never met his exacting standards. Usually, he doesn't allow anyone near him because he know what he likes better than anyone else.Usually.
Relationships: Rook Hunt/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 16
Kudos: 113





	Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> i am so unbelievably ready for the pommfiore chapter you do not understand

Usually, Vil can only trust himself with his appearance. 

He has tried from time to time to allow assistants or make up artists to put his face together for him, to pick out his clothes and do his hair, to allow him to be at least a little more relaxed. They never met his exacting standards. Usually, he doesn't allow anyone near him because he know what he likes better than anyone else. 

Usually. 

Sometimes, though, very rarely, (he could count on one hand the amount of times this has actually happened and this would be number four,) he allows Rook the job of taking care of him. 

And Rook is more then happy to oblige. 

It's a Sunday, he has a shoot in four hours, and just this once he doesn't want to move. It's a cheat day, he's decided. He can be lazy just this once. His bed is large and plush and inviting and all he wants to do is just laze the day away. 

They had slept together last night, maybe that's why he's like this today. 

“What does my Queen want today?” Rook whispers into his neck, kissing along his hairline. “Does he want me to take care of him?” 

Vil nods into his pillows. 

It's fine, if it's Rook its fine. Rook who puts up with everything and always tries his best when Vil asks. Rook who showers praise on him at every other moment. Rook who's kind of weird and outlandish but well meaning and gentle. 

Rook gets up, Vil can hear the blankets shifting, can feel the warm air on his own back. He's gone for a moment and Vil's eyes slowly close. He wonders if he might fall back asleep in that moment- but no. Rook comes back, on his side of the bed this time and straddles him. 

“Spread your arms out.” Vil does, just in time to feel Rook's hands start to massage his shoulders. Strong powerful fingers covered in a warming oil that smells of lilacs and peonies dig into his muscles, working away at the knots he's not supposed to have. He's not supposed to be stressed, every part of him is supposed to present as effortless perfection. 

Maybe tomorrow Rook is going to nag him about it. 

But today, Rook is quiet while he works, hands running up and down his back, along his arms and shoulders, even sweeping up to his neck, thumbs drawing careful lines along his body. 

“Will you turn over?” 

“The sheets.” Rook has been liberal with the massage oil, because he knows Vil likes the smell. 

“I'll have someone wash them before you return in the evening.” 

Rook shifts while he turns over and now they're staring at each other. Rook mutters something under his breath, a “très magnifique” that Vil smiles at before leaning back and getting comfortable. The way Rook works, staring at every inch of him with such attention makes him feel flush. Maintaining eye contact when he's like this is impossible. 

So he turns his gaze to the window. He can just feel the way Rook's hands work the oil into his stomach and paying needless extra attention to his chest. His palms glide over his nipples over and over and over again until Vil coughs and Rook freezes. 

“Best to wash this off then.” 

“I'm sure it settled, with all of your... careful ministrations.”

Rook just smiles and slides off of him. 

He takes his hot shower, rubbing until he feels like the oil has drifted off of him, and listening to Rook flit in and out of his ensuite, no doubt staring until he was full of the sight. 

Vil steps out and there he is right beside him, towel open and more then content to pat him dry slowly. 

“Your hair?” He asks, as he doesn't know. 

“I washed it two days ago. To much product is bad for it too, you know. I hope you're not in the business of washing yours daily. Lest it start falling out. I'll be cross.” I'll kick you out of your position, he means to say, but doesn't. They've both heard him threaten it enough. 

“Of course not. Every four days for me as well. The entire dorm follows your schedules to the letter, can't you tell?” 

“You want me to think about other dorm members right now?” While he's naked and fulling willing to put with Rook's voyeurism. And it is voyeurism somehow, even when it's just the two of them and Rook is inches away. 

“I prepared a look for you.” He says instead, because they both know when to drop things. “Tell me if you like it.” 

He does like it well enough, tight leather pants and a billowing white blouse with puffy sleeves that both show off his well toned figure and accentuate his natural softness. Rook really knows what he's doing. The boots he's chosen are high heeled, and reach the mid calf, with maroon soles he could match his make up too. Yes, it's really almost perfect. 

“A corset?” 

“Meant to be worn over the blouse of course.” It's a dark leather, a match maroon, that could almost pass of a particularly large belt if it wasn't for the lacing. 

“Of course.” Vil wonders if it's meant to Say something. But then Rook has always been blunt, and if he was unsatisfied with anything, he'd just come out and say it. “This will do.” 

“Do you need help with your makeup?” 

“No.” He pauses. “You can do my hair.” 

It'll be done faster anyway. And Rook knows how to work around Vil in a way almost makes it look like a gorgeous dance and not someone brushing someone else's hair. That's just the way they are. They Work together. Rook is so complimentary to everything Vil does, it just makes sense that he would pick him as his vice. 

He goes for a maroon lip and lighter eye makeup. He'll have to take it off at the shoot anyway, so until then, while he's on campus, this will have to do. Rook puts his hair up, his crown in it's usual place. 

Rook dresses him too, careful when he pulls the blouse over his head, so as to not ruin the work they both put in. Then a pair of silk undergarments, the leather pants, which are both done with much less fanfare, thought Vil is sure Rook gets his eyeful. 

He doesn't really understand the fascination. Well, of course he does in part, Vil is beautiful and gorgeous, and the very model of perfection. What he doesn't understand is how Rook finds just the same amount of wonderment every time. He doesn't even get that ogle-y when they actually have sex. 

He finds more interest in the mundane act of dressing Vil then he does in fucking him, and sure. 

Everyone knows Rook is eccentric. 

Vil more than anyone else. 

Rook takes his time with the corset, actions almost worshipful with the laces, slowly pulling until Vil has no choice but to sit up straighter. Vil can feel his breath on the back of his neck while he works, and when he's done he presses a kiss at the base. 

“Done.” 

Vil stands, and turns to look at the neat bow Rook created at the small of his back. 

The perfect pretty picture. 

He'll have someone, probably Rook, take one for Magicam later. For now, they can both stand in his bathroom and marvel at him, at their mutual hard work. 

Perfection.

He expects nothing less.

**Author's Note:**

> comments always very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


End file.
